


The Personal (video) Blog of Dr. John H. Watson

by SuperWhoLocked221b



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Post-Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-18 06:35:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1418566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperWhoLocked221b/pseuds/SuperWhoLocked221b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As John begins to recover from Sherlock's death, Sherlock himself struggles to stay away from his good doctor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Personal (video) Blog of Dr. John H. Watson

**Author's Note:**

> This was a drabble I wrote a LONG time ago based on a gif set. The basic idea is John began posting video blogs to deal with Sherlock's death, and Sherlock never misses one. Hope you like it! :)

Sherlock cursed under his breath as the buffering symbol appeared on the screen again. The Wi-Fi in the small cafe was dreadfully slow, not to mention the phone he had stolen from an unsuspecting woman on the tube was, based on scuffmarks and model, at least 2 years old. He breathed slowly, trying to suppress his frustration. Finally, the video loaded. Sherlock felt his heart leap as the image of John popped on the screen. Slowly, the army doctor began to speak.

“So, I went out with Greg and Molly tonight. We had a really nice dinner…” Sherlock suppressed the urge to smile as John detailed his evening. John had that effect on him; He was one of the few people that made him genuinely happy. “…and then we went to the pub, and… and for just a few hours…I forgot… about Sherlock.” The detective suddenly felt his mouth go dry. The last 2 words, which John had drawn out, slowly and thoughtfully, echoed in his mind. Sherlock felt it irrational, but something about John forgetting him hurt worse than he could have imagined. Sherlock remembered the first few video blogs John had posted, all of which were comprised mainly of him crying and repeatedly asking “why?” How Sherlock had longed to reach through the computer screen and tell John it was to save him. That it was all for him. But, of course, he couldn’t. Those videos had been very, very hard to watch. But something about this video was harder. Sherlock felt guilty and confused. Of course he doesn’t want John to be sad or hurt, but by no means did he want to be forgotten.

“It’s been… exactly 100 days since…” John’s voice broke slightly, and the man struggled to blink back tears. “…Since Sherlock…” John seemed to ponder his next word carefully. “… left. And-” John took a deep breath. “And I think I’m doing OK.” The man leaned forward with a slight smile and turned off the camera, leaving Sherlock with a black screen and far too many emotions for a sociopath.

*************

Molly opened the door to her flat, kicking off her shoes and sliding her coat off and onto a table. It had been a long day at work, and she was excited to have dinner and relax. As she walked into her kitchen, she suddenly stopped and gasped. “Ah! -Oh… Sherlock… Don’t… Please don’t do that again…” She placed a hand over her heart and the other on the kitchen table as she tried to calm down. Sherlock was seated calmly on the kitchen chair, both hands under his chin. “Hello, Molly.” His voice was deep and relaxed, as it usually was while he was thinking. After recovering from her shock, Molly stood up straight and gave a weak smile. “What, exactly, are you doing here? I thought you were off chasing more leads.” Sherlock gave her a quick smile and stood gracefully, talking as he paced around the small flat. “I was! And one lead just happened to place me an hour from London so I thought… I’d stop by for a visit!”

Molly struggled to keep her smile as she stuttered. “But… but you don’t do that.” Sherlock stopped walking and turned to her, confused. “What do you mean?” Molly turned her head sideways. “I mean you don’t just  _visit_. You always have a reason… for _everything_.” Sherlock looked down, his posture crumbling as his shoulders caved forward. “Sherlock…what’s wrong?”

The detective forced his eyes up to meet Molly’s, but he couldn’t hide the pain and hurt in them. Molly gasped quietly, her hand placed gently over her mouth. Sherlock tried to speak, but for once, he couldn’t find the words. Each word was dragged out with pauses between them. “I- I’ve been watching… the, um… blogs… He, uh… it sounds like he’s… happy…” He sniveled, silently cursing his emotions for betraying him as he regained his composure. Molly, who hadn’t moved for sometime, slowly began walking towards Sherlock. When they were only about a foot away from each other, Molly lifted her hands and gingerly wrapped them around the lanky detective. For once, Sherlock didn’t try to stop her. As she hugged him closer, he felt his emotions begin to get the better of him again. He sniffled again, trying to stay in control. “I don’t understand it.” He said, almost laughing. “I want him to be happy, I really do.” He stopped and closed his eyes, trying to find an answer that wasn’t there. “…so why…why does it hurt?” Tears threatened to push past his eye lids any second, and he blinked them back. Molly remained clutched around his waist, and Sherlock was surprised to find he didn’t mind. When she finally unwound herself, she looked up at Sherlock. “You don’t want to be forgotten.” Sherlock closed his eyes again and clenched his jaw. Molly gave a sad, understanding smile. “You think he’s moving on. That he’s going to make himself a new life without you and one day, when you come back…” She paused, her voice quieter and gentler “…You’ll come back and his life won’t have room for you anymore…”

Sherlock gave up and allowed a tear to fall silently down his cheek. Molly herself seemed to be struggling not to cry. She grabbed her coat off the table and grabbed Sherlock’s forearm, causing him to slowly open his swollen eyes. “Come on. I need to show you something.”

*************

They left her flat with only a few hours of daylight left. The cab ride was silent, and within a minute Sherlock knew where they were going. They stepped out, and Molly paid the cabby while Sherlock threw his hands in his coat pockets. They walked together, still in silence, until they reached a familiar sight. The black headstone was plain, but elegant. At the base was a small bouquet of flowers. Sherlock slowly picked them up and examined them closely. He noticed the stems were freshly cut and still wet. He put them down and stood back, mumbling just loud enough for Molly to hear. “They couldn’t have been here for more than an hour or so.”

“He comes here almost every day, you know.” Sherlock gave her a sideways glace like he wasn’t quite sure whether he believed her or not. She returned the glance. “It’s true. He always brings something, flowers, a note… one time he even brought some cigarettes.” Molly and Sherlock both chuckled when she said that, and they stood in silence for a good minute before Molly spoke up again.

“He’ll never forget you. You know that, right?”

Sherlock took a deep breath before he answered. “I suppose so.”

She took his hand and squeezed it tight for support. “He’s getting over your death, Sherlock… but he’ll never get over you.”

Sherlock squeezed her hand back. “Thank you, Molly.”


End file.
